


hurricane

by annperkinsface



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 20:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4976239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annperkinsface/pseuds/annperkinsface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She goes to Eliza because of course she does. It was never a question, no matter what Alexander thought, but it's painfully clear he hadn't been thinking at all, or at least not about anyone other than himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hurricane

She goes to Eliza because of course she does. It was never a question, no matter what Alexander thought, but it's painfully clear he hadn't been thinking at all, or at least not about anyone other than himself.

Little Angelica ushers her through the door. Even in the dim light of the foyer she can make out the redness of her eyes and Angelica curses Alexander for the thousandth time.

"I don't know what to do, Auntie. Mama's holed up in her room, and Phillip's at school, and Papa—" Her voice breaks and she swipes at her eyes in frustration. At thirteen she's not so little really, but the way she turns up her face toward Angelica, silently beseeching her for answers, reminds Angelica how young she still really is. She embraces her niece tightly, as if that would somehow keep the pieces of her young, fragile heart inside where they belong.

"It's okay," Angelica says, even though it's really not. "Go. Sleep. You'll feel better in the morning and, even if you don't, I'll be here to talk about it, okay?"

Little Angelica nods under Angelica's chin, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. "You'll take care of her, won't you?"

"Of course. That's what big sisters are for."

She looks up at Angelica. Her chin's still quavering a little but she's smiling tremulously now too. _You don't even know how brave you are_ , Angelica thinks, feeling her heart twist. It doesn't help that she looks so much like Eliza.

"I wish Phillip were here."

"I'm sure he'd tell you the same thing if he were." She smooths down Angelica's dark curls one last time before stepping back and shooing her away. "Now to sleep, I tell you!"

Angelica lingers, watching her disappear up the staircase. The silence is strange and terrible. She's too used to the stampede of feet and exuberant voices of the children.

She closes her eyes, breathes, and goes to her sister.

There are letters strewn everywhere, from the bed to the floor, and in the middle of it all like a hurricane is Eliza. She's in her night gown, scanning a letter in hand, and Angelica kneels beside her, rests a hand on the middle of her back.

Eliza stirs. "You warned me." Her eyes are dry. She is calm, self-possessed. "Do you remember? All those years ago."

She wants nothing more than to hide her face in her sister's back but that would be cowardice. "Yes."

"Be careful with that one, love; he will do what it takes to survive." She smiles, and it's terrible, a farce. "You were right."

"I didn't want to be." _May you always be satisfied_ , she'd said at their wedding, raising a glass in the air, and behind her smile was silent, sinking despair. "I wanted to be wrong, more than anything."

Eliza just nods, eyes never dropping from the letter, like it can hold all the answers in the world if she only looked hard enough. "How is Angelica?"

"Brave," Angelica says, automatically, and Eliza's impenetrable mask cracks.

"She's a good girl," Eliza says, hard and choked. "They're all such good children. They don't deserve—" She cuts off, her back shuddering under Angelica's palm, anger and hurt radiating off her in waves.

"He's a fool," Angelica whispers, desperate. She reaches up to touch her sister's face, turn it towards her. There are tears brimming, spilling over.

"We're all fools here," Eliza says. "Me most of all."

**Author's Note:**

> late night writing experiment caused by jamming to burn that i may or may not h8 in the morning. also i just really love writing little angelica. i wish we got to meet her in the musical but that shit was tragic as it is so.


End file.
